


Crashing Into You

by xylophones



Series: i like you lots (High School AUs) [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, Growing Up, High School, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:18:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylophones/pseuds/xylophones
Summary: “Have I made you feel like you’re not important to me?” Yuuri demands. “Why do you think I’m going to forget about you when we go to college? You’re my best friend.”“Right,” Viktor says. “Best friend.”Oh.Oh.





	Crashing Into You

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from [XO by Beyonce](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xUfCUFPL-8) (of course) because that song has such a vibe to it and i wanted to try to capture it. Also songs with a vibe: [400 lux](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWGQduke0tc) and also [ribs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qaeoz_7cyE), both by lorde
> 
> Pls enjoy 4k of me being angsty about graduating

It’s late.

Yuuri is so,  _ so  _ tired. The dance studio lights are too bright; the mirrored wall seems to reflect it directly into Yuuri’s eyes and it’s giving him a headache. It’s _ so _ late. His bones ache the way they always do when he’s been on his feet too long and the sweat has dried on his skin making him feel sore and uncomfortably tacky. 

Viktor doesn’t look any better. He’s been sitting in the corner, quietly working on an essay while Yuuri practices. About an hour ago he’d swept his bangs up into a small ponytail at the top of his head. It flops over now, like a sad silver palm tree. Yuuri thinks it’s adorable.

“Let’s call it a day, yeah?” Yuuri says. He stretches, shaking out his limbs and rolling his shoulders to try to alleviate the tension. He catches Viktor’s gaze in the mirror.

“Y-Yeah,” Viktor stutters, looking dazed. “It’s pretty late.”

Viktor must be more tired than Yuuri thought.

They bundle their stuff up in companionable silence. Yuuri loves coming to the dance studio after school. He’s done it since freshman year, when he’d just moved here and had no friends. Minako, the owner, just happened to also be from Hasetsu. The dance studio has been his home away from home for four years now. Yuuri aches when he thinks about how he’ll have to find a new dance studio now that he’s graduating. 

“Hey,” Viktor grabs his attention by lightly tapping Yuuri’s elbow. “Are you hungry? You’ve been practicing since four. There’s a pretty good diner just down the street, my treat.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says, smiling.

Viktor likes to treat Yuuri anytime he can. He has more money than any eighteen year old should, thanks to his inheritance, and he  _ insists  _ on spending as much of it on Yuuri as Yuuri will let him. 

They eat together often.They’re best friends and partners in crime. They go out for dinner and to the movies and, one time, they drove two hours to the nearest big city to go ice skating. Viktor keeps Yuuri company in the studio while he’s practicing for his next competition. Yuuri knows that it’s only because it’s convenient, it’s closer than the library and they have matching schedules so it makes sense, but he can’t help but wonder if  _ maybe– _

No. 

Yuuri is just tired. His mind is playing tricks on him again. 

“Okay!” Viktor says, bouncing on his heels. “It’s really close, I promise. They have the best cheese fries!”

“Cheese fries aren’t very healthy and my competition is in two weeks,” Yuuri says. “Minako would kill me.”

“Yes, but she’s not here, is she?” Viktor points out. “Come on, Yuuri! Live a little!”

The night greets Yuuri like an old friend, wrapping him up in its chilly embrace. Yuuri remembers making midnight runs to the local convenience store when he still lived in Hasetsu. He use to come home half frozen and with his arms heavy with instant ramen and Mari’s favorite chips. 

“Are you cold?” Viktor asks, cutting himself off from whatever he’d been rambling about while Yuuri zoned out. 

“I’m fine,” Yuuri says. He’s shivering. 

Viktor pouts at him, unconvinced.

“Okay, maybe it’s a little chilly.”

Viktor clucks his tongue disapprovingly. Before Yuuri can protest, he peels off his Grand Prix High School hockey team jacket and dumps it on Yuuri’s shoulders. 

“What–?” 

“Shh,” Viktor hushes him. He fusses around with the jacket until he can zip it up all the way to Yuuri’s chin. The sleeves of it spill over Yuuri’s hands. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“ _ You’ll _ catch a cold,” Yuuri protests. 

“No, I won’t,” Viktor snorts. He tugs on Yuuri’s sleeve–  _ Viktor’s _ sleeve, of the jacket that  _ Yuuri  _ is wearing, oh my  _ god _ – and keeps walking. “We live in California. It’s not even that cold, you’re just weak to the elements.”

“It’s  _ freezing _ , Viktor! Take the jacket back.”

“Yuuri, it’s like sixty degrees.”

Yuuri opens his mouth to protest some more but then he realizes that he really,  _ really  _ likes wearing Viktor’s jacket. It’s warm and soft, just big enough to be comfortably baggy but not enough to drown him. He looks down at the red cuffs, the white and red designs, the  _ Team Captain _ embroidered over the pocket, the silver zipper. He knows it has Viktor’s last name printed across the back and in the back of his mind Yuuri thinks of wearing the jacket as being labelled  _ Viktor’s. _

_ God. _ Yuuri is really tired. He thanks his lucky stars that his brain-to-mouth filter is still working because if he’d said that out loud Yuuri might actually die from embarrassment. 

They get to the diner without any further incidents, though Yuuri continues to silently freak out about the jacket situation. Viktor talks enough for both of them, flitting back and forth between topics like a butterfly.

“We’re here!” Viktor announces suddenly, halting in the middle of the sidewalk. 

It’s a diner. Yuuri doesn’t know why he was expecting anything else. 

The place is tiny but homey. It has authentic red vinyl seats and a black and white checkered floor. There’s even a jukebox in the corner. Yuuri admires the chrome shine of the seats by the bar before Viktor pulls him into a booth. 

“Mila!” Viktor greets their waitress. “How are you?”

“Viktor,” she smiles warmly. Yuuri recognizes her from around school, a sophomore, he thinks. “I’m doing well. Mr. Feltsman’s paper is  _ killing  _ me.”

“Ugh, me too,” Viktor says. “You’re doing alright, though?” 

“Yes! My chemistry teacher sent me this application for a paid internship at the UCLA labs so I’ll probably do that over the summer.”

“Aw,” Viktor pouts, “but who will tolerate my extra complicated pancake orders?”

Mila laughs and shakes her head, red hair bouncing prettily in the low light. She pulls out a worn looking notepad and a pen. 

“What can I get for you two today?” she asks. 

“We’ll have some cheese fries and–” Viktor pauses to look at Yuuri. 

“A milkshake?” Yuuri says hesitantly. “Can we share one? It’s late and I probably shouldn’t have too much sugar….” 

“An oreo milkshake, please,” Viktor says to Mila. She nods and reads their order back to them before sweeping away to the kitchens. 

“How do you know  _ everyone _ ?” Yuuri asks Viktor. “I swear, it’s like you’re a walking yearbook.”

“The Associated Student Body President has to know everyone,” Viktor says. “It’s my job!”

“No,” Yuuri rolls his eyes, “your job is to read off the morning announcements and make sure that school administration doesn’t do something ridiculous, like force us all to wear collars.”

“Hey, I do more than that! And what kind of president would I be if I wasn’t friendly with everyone?” Viktor says. “I didn’t get elected because I’m  _ responsible _ , you know.”

Yuuri takes the bait. “Okay, then why  _ did _ you get elected?”

“My good looks and popularity, of course!”

Yuuri smiles. Viktor has so much charm it oozes out of his pores. He could run for president of the United States and win, probably. 

“I think it’s cute that you care so much about our school,” Yuuri admits, because he’s finally reached the point where he’s so tired he doesn’t care anymore. “You’re cute.”

Viktor blushes. Yuuri laughs because Viktor’s face now matches the booth’s seats. 

They tease and banter, only pausing when Mila brings out their food and Yuuri has a meltdown because these are the best cheese fries he’s ever had in his  _ entire life. _

“Oh my  _ god, _ ” Yuuri moans quietly. He shovels more fries and melted cheese into his mouth. 

“I know,” Viktor chuckles. 

“ _ Viktor. _ ”

“I  _ know _ .”

The milkshake is equally as good. There’s a moment while they’re arguing about the best type of cereal when both Yuuri and Viktor reach for the milkshake. Their fingers brush, electric, before Yuuri stutters and pulls away. He feels like the protagonist in a shitty romantic comedy. He loses the argument but only because his mind blanks out when he watches Viktor pull the straw into his mouth with his tongue. 

Eventually, Yuuri starts to feel tired again. After the third time he interrupts himself with a yawn Viktor announces that it’s time to go home. He pays the bill and Yuuri notices that the tip he leaves for Mila is easily double what it should be. 

“I’m driving you home,” Viktor says, no room for argument. 

“Well, yeah,” Yuuri says. “We carpooled to the school this morning, so.”

“Oh, right,” Viktor blinks. “Sorry, I just wanted to–”

“That’s adorable,” Yuuri says. “You wanted to be nice but you forgot we drove here together. You’re so…  _ nice. _ ”

“Nice,” Viktor echoes. 

Viktor guides him back to the school’s parking garage, just a block away from the diner and the dance studio. He lets Yuuri lean against him the entire way there. Yuuri feels safe, wrapped up in Viktor’s jacket with Viktor’s arm draped around his shoulders. He gets into Viktor’s car and wonders if this is what it would be like to date him.

As soon as he has the thought it slips away. 

Yuuri loves the way Viktor drives. He’s not reckless like most teen drivers. Viktor jokes that in Russia he’s driven since he popped out of the womb. He usually drives them places, or acts as Yuuri’s chauffeur since Yuuri  _ still _ doesn’t have his license. 

In his defense, his dog died the day of his driving test and he’s been too embarrassed to go back to the DMV since. 

Yuuri dozes in the passenger seat, drifting in and out of consciousness as Viktor guides their car smoothly through the suburban streets. The roads are quiet. Yuuri is lulled to sleep by the rhythmic flash of gold as they pass underneath the streetlights, face turned towards the light like a flower towards the sun.

He’s pulled out of his light slumber when Viktor starts singing along to the radio. 

It’s a Beyonce song, because  _ of course _ it is. Viktor is a cliche of a human being and he owns no less than seven Beyonce shirts.The song is one of her softer ones. It’s cute with heartfelt lyrics and a rhythm that makes Yuuri’s heart beat steady. It’s the kind of song that Yuuri finds himself dancing to without thinking about; something that pulls the moves straight out of his bones. The gentle sway of his hips here, the flick of his wrist there. 

Viktor’s voice is breathtaking. He sings with his entire  _ soul. _ There’s something disarming about him like this; something honest and vulnerable.

“ _ You better kiss me before our time has run out _ .”

Viktor taps his fingers on the steering wheel. The radio display glows a faint blue that brings out his eyes and reflect off his silver hair. 

Yuuri watches Viktor crooning softly along to Beyonce and thinks, fondly:  _ I love him. _

Yuuri blinks, stunned. 

He  _ loves _ Viktor.

Like he knew, objectively, that he loved viktor. How could he not? Viktor was fun and energetic and with enough charisma to rule a country. Helen of Troy, with a smile that could launch a thousand ships. He was the sun, golden and safe. He made Yuuri feel comfortable. 

Steady.

Even small moments like this are precious to Yuuri. Viktor is quieter, though no less himself. He’s softer in a way that makes Yuuri feel soft too. He doesn’t put on a face like he does for the rest of the world. When it’s the two of them he’s  _ just _ Viktor. Not Viktor, student body president, not Viktor, valedictorian. Just Viktor.

VIktor contains multitudes. He’s a universe on his own. Yuuri is honored that Viktor deems him worthy enough to share space with him; to sing along to Beyonce songs while he lets Yuuri nap in the passenger seat of his car.

Yuuri realizes, belatedly, that he’s in too deep. 

“I love this song,” Viktor says to himself, bobbing his head to the beat.

“I noticed,” Yuuri says drily. He rearranges himself so that he’s turned towards Viktor, knees tucked up on the faux leather seat, his cheek smushed against the shoulder rest. Yuuri feels impossibly young and hopelessly in love. 

“Sorry,” Viktor winces. “Did I wake you?”

“No, it’s okay. I… I like listening to you sing.”

“Well, you should. You’re my best friend,” Viktor teases, “you’re obligated to like everything about me. It’s in the job description.”

“Shut up,” Yuuri smiles. “I meant– I like listening to you like this. When it’s just us.”

“Just us, huh?” Viktor hums. “Yeah, I like this, too.”

Yuuri blushes. He feels braver, suddenly. Maybe it’s the music low in the background or maybe it’s the darkness or maybe it’s just Viktor. Yuuri feels brave.

“When I first moved to America,” he says softly, “I hated it here. I thought everyone was too loud and rude and I thought I’d never make any friends.”

“Is that why you ignored me for the entirety of freshman year? ”

“I wasn’t  _ ignoring _ you,” Yuuri says, blushing. “I was just… shy. You were so  _ popular _ , you had so many friends! And I was this nobody new kid whose best friend was his ballet teacher.” 

“Hey, I was a loser, too,” Viktor says. “I mean, who tries to befriend someone by spouting off random facts about sharks?”

“I like sharks.”

Viktor chuckles. “See? This is why we’re friends. And besides, you opened up to me eventually. Not just me, now you have Yurio and Leo and Guang Hong, too! And you’re captain of the dance team. You’re not a nobody, Yuuri.”

“Yeah, but it’s all thanks to you,” Yuuri says. “If you hadn’t sat next to me in biology, if you’d given up after the first few times–– I wouldn’t be the same person I am today. You believed in me even when I didn’t. I can’t thank you enough.”

Viktor is quiet. He pulls the car up to stop at the traffic light and the red light highlights Viktor’s profile, tracing the shape of his brow, his nose, his lips. 

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Viktor says finally. “That’s… thank you. It’s been an honor growing up with you. Did I really help you that much?”

Yuuri smiles softly. Viktor has no idea.

“Yes,” he says. 

“I wish we met sooner,” Viktor says, an edge of desperation in his voice. “I wish we had more  _ time. _ I wish–– Maybe if we were going to the same university, it’s not too late to withdraw my application––”

“What? No,” Yuuri frowns, confused by how upset Viktor is suddenly. “You love your university! You said it yourself, nothing could stop you from going.”

“You could,” Viktor admits quietly. “I want to stay close to you.”

He turns his face to lock eyes with Yuuri. Yuuri thinks:  _ maybe, maybe one day I’ll have a chance. _

The light turns green. 

Viktor accelerates the car, hands tight around the steering wheel. He bites his lip. Yuuri wonders if he regrets saying anything. 

“We can’t plan the rest of our lives around each other,” Yuuri says gently. 

The car glides through the quiet suburban streets, the engine a low hum under the radio. The houses here are identical, perfect angles and levelled surfaces. A small seaside town, so similar to Hasetsu but  _ so different. _ An entire ocean away. Yuuri thinks about how when he hears the word home he thinks about the gentle patter of Hasetsu rain, the smell of his mom’s cooking filling their small house on the edge of the California coast, the bright lights of the city seen through the window in Minako’s studio, the way Viktor smiles at him.

“I don’t like anyone nearly as much as I like you,” Viktor says. “What am I gonna do when you’re not just down the street anymore?”

Viktor gets so  _ sad _ sometimes it scares Yuuri. Some days he goes to school and smiles and handles events and goes to hockey practice and it’s like he’s not  _ alive _ . Sometimes Viktor goes entire weeks like this and on the weekends he crashes into Yuuri’s bed, curling himself up under Yuuri’s blankets until he starts to feel human again. 

“You’ll make new friends,” Yuuri whispers. 

“Not friends like you.”

“Of–” Yuuri yawns, “– course not. No one knows as many embarrassing things about you as I do.”

“Yeah?” Viktor raises an eyebrow, “and what embarrassing things do you know about me?”

“Well, I know that you’re a dork who knows the words to every Nicki Minaj song in existence,” Yuuri teases. 

“She’s a lyrical genius,” Viktor says with a straight face. “ ‘ _ He wants to pound it like a hashtag _ ’ was the best line ever written. Ever _. _ ”

“You give your dog first choice on where to sit on the couch.”

“You give Makka first choice, too. We’re both too soft on him.”

“Also, you own, like, a weird amount of mugs. Why do you have so many mugs? I don’t understand.”

“I’m not hearing any negatives here.” 

“My point is that you’re just as strange as the rest of us,” Yuuri says. “You can’t hide from me, Nikiforov.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide,” Viktor says softly. “And I still wish we had more time.”

“We have the rest of the year and the entire summer,” Yuuri points out. “I don’t want to talk about this. We have time, Vitya.”

“Not enough,” Viktor repeats.

Yuuri opens his mouth to comfort him again but he cuts himself off with another yawn. His eyelids droop.

“You must be really tired,” Viktor says. He makes a turn and Yuuri watches as the lights, the entire world, blur through the window behind him. “Rest. I’ll wake you up when we get to your place.”

Yuuri nods sleepily and shuffles in his seat, pulling Viktor’s jacket tighter around himself. He buries his nose in the collar, telling his brain to shut up before he does something disastrous like confess his undying love.

Yuuri lets himself drift again. He hears Viktor switch the radio off and hum, his voice the only thing that pierces through the dark. Yuuri allows himself to bask in the easy intimacy they’ve built up. He’ll miss this when it’s gone; when Viktor realizes that Yuuri really isn’t worth his time. He curls up tighter, as if to shield himself from the inevitable heartbreak. 

Yuuri wakes just as Viktor pulls up in front of his house. He feels Viktor brush his bangs out of his face but he doesn’t open his eyes. He wants to stay in this car forever. He wants Viktor to drive until the suburban street lights are behind them. He’ll dance in the middle of the California desert and Viktor can sing into the wind; young and dumb and in love. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor murmurs, shaking Yuuri’s shoulder gently. “C’mon, time to get up. We’re here.”

Yuuri’s eyes flutter open. He stretches out slowly, reluctant to say goodbye. 

“Do you need help getting upstairs?” Viktor asks with a gentle smile. “I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep on the doorstep.”

“No,” Yuuri yawns. “No, I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Viktor smiles. 

Yuuri wants to say something. He thinks that it’s probably a bad idea to tell Viktor he’s in love with him, especially given that he only realized it less than an hour ago. He needs time to dissect his feelings. 

Viktor looks at him. He licks his lips and Yuuri’s eyes track the movement. 

_ Maybe, _ his traitorous heart thinks, the poor naive thing.  _ Maybe he feels the same. _

“Good night,” Yuuri blurts out. He exits the car quickly before his sleep addled brain can trick him into thinking that Viktor wants to kiss him. Stupid. His lips were probably just chapped. 

“Yuuri, wait!” Viktor calls out, sticking his head out of his lowered window. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow right? We can get breakfast?”

They don’t have school tomorrow. There’s no reason for them to get breakfast or carpool.

“Y-Yes! Tomorrow!” Yuuri nods, trying valiantly not to find Viktor charming, hanging out of his car to make breakfast plans with Yuuri. 

“Okay,” he says. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Yuuri says again. He marches up to his house.

“Actually,” he says to himself, thinking about Viktor’s lonely face and sad blue eyes, “no. No, we’re going to talk about this.”

He turns on his heel and gets back into Viktor’s car. 

“Oh,” Viktor says. “Hello, again?”

“We’re talking about this,” Yuuri declares, feeling wide awake. “Why are you so insecure about our friendship?”

“Um!” Viktor squeaks. “I’m not?”

“Have I made you feel like you’re not important to me?” Yuuri demands. “Why do you think I’m going to forget about you when we go to college? You’re my best friend.”

“Right,” Viktor says. “Best friend.”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Yuuri realizes suddenly that everything has been leading up to this moment. Every shy brush of hands, every secret whispered at midnight. Every time Yuuri had turned to his side and Viktor had been there, always. Every car ride home.

Yuuri realizes, just as belatedly as he’d realized his own feelings, that Viktor is in love with him.

Well. That certainly makes things easier. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, trying to contain his excitement, “ask me how you know that I won’t just forget about you.”

Viktor looks at him hesitantly.

“Okay,” he says. “How will I know that you won’t just forget about me?” 

Yuuri takes a moment to smile at him fondly before he leans across the center console and kisses him. 

It's Yuuri's first kiss. Viktor feels like coming home after a long day at school, kicking off your worn sneakers and shrugging a backpack off your shoulders. Yuuri feels lazy summer nights in the press of their lips; he feels spring breaks spent lounging around his backyard. Yuuri kisses Viktor and thinks about coming home from dance practice to find Viktor and Makkachin already in his room, let in with the key that Yuuri's mom gave him in sophomore year. Under his fingertips, Yuuri can feel the steady drum of Viktor's heartbeat. 

“There,” he whispers, pulling away. “That’s how you know.”

Viktor blinks at him, stunned. Then he grins, soft and slow and heart-shaped, Yuuri’s favorite smile in the entire world. 

“Oh,” he says. “ _ I– _ Really?”

Yuuri blushes. “That was okay, right? I wasn’t reading the signs wrong?”

Viktor laughs, bright and golden, spilling from the open car windows and into the night. “Okay? That was amazing! I’ve wanted to do that for ages.”

“It was going to happen eventually,” Yuuri says. “You call my mom ‘Mama’, there’s no way we  _ wouldn’t _ end up together.”

“Well,  _ I  _ didn’t know that. I was convinced you’d have me waiting until the end of time! You know,” Viktor smirks at him, “half the school already thinks we’re dating.”

“Oh?” Yuuri blinks innocently, wrapped up in Viktor’s jacket. “What could give them that idea?”

Viktor laughs again, the relief in his voice almost tangible. 

“I was so scared that you’d leave before I could tell you about how much I love you,” Viktor says. He pulls Yuuri in for another quick kiss. “I was convinced that you’d find a cute boyfriend at your fancy university and forget all about poor, pining Viktor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri snorts. He kisses Viktor again, just because he can. 

“Okay,” he says after a while, untangling his fingers from Viktor’s hair. “Okay! I have to go. Really this time.”

“Okay,” Viktor says, smiling at him with a look Yuuri can only describe as besotted, “but we’re still okay for breakfast, right?”

“Yes,” Yuuri says. He kisses Viktor one last time, just so he knows that Yuuri will miss him for the full eight hours they’ll be apart. 

Viktor waits until Yuuri unlocks the door and waves at him from inside before he drives away. Yuuri thinks this is adorable. 

“Took you long enough,” Mari says, stepping out of the shadows and scaring the shit out of Yuuri.

“Mari!”

“You’re so jumpy,” she teases. “Also, nice jacket, little brother. Is it new?”

Yuuri wrinkles his nose at her. He steps into the kitchen and flicks the light on, revealing his mom and dad seated at the table, matching devious smiles on their faces.

_ Oh God,  _ his entire family just watched him make out with Viktor in his car, like a degenerate teen from those cliche American films Mari is always watching. Yuuri’s face burns. 

“Why didn’t you invite Vicchan inside?” his mom asks, blinking her round brown eyes at him. “It’s late. He could have stayed the night.”

Yuuri blushes even more. 

“ _ Okaasan _ ,” he whines, “he lives just down the street.”

“You should have brought him in anyway,” Yuuri’s dad says. “You need to introduce us to your new boyfriend, Yuuri.”

“You’ve met Viktor before!”

“Ah, yes,” his dad teases, “but not as your boyfriend!”

Yuuri is so red at this point that Mari snaps a picture, cackling like the demon witch that she is. Yuuri is going to replace all her shampoo with hair dye. Bright pink hair dye. 

“Okay, that’s enough teasing,” his mom says. “Go get some rest. We’re very happy for you and Vicchan.”

Yuuri grumbles and shuffles out of the kitchen but he’s smiling. 

When Viktor picks him up the next morning, Yuuri is wearing his jacket. 

Months later, after he settles into his new dorm, Yuuri facetimes Viktor to tell him about his new roommate, Phichit. He’s wearing Viktor’s jacket.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://somethingsnotquitewrite.tumblr.com/)!!


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